Get Out Alive
by Beautiful Trix
Summary: The best advice is "If you want to get out alive, then run for your life". At least, that is what everyone's been saying. After her husband takes that advice, Merope is on her death bed, passing that same advice to her son. Is it cowardly?


_Another songfic, I don't know why I have so many._

_First off, I don't own Harry Potter or this song. The song is called Get out Alive by Three Days Grace._

_I didn't use the whole song for personal reasons...Okay, I had no ideas for the rest of the song. Plain and Simple. But I do like where the angle went too._

_If you don't like the story, don't review. I don't care what you think. But, if you did enjoy it, then review lots! And favorite it. And check out my other stories too!_

_Beautiful Trix_

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_No time for goodbye he said  
As he faded away_

The father and son walked around the grounds of their magnificent estate. Snow covered the ground, crunching beneath their feet. The cold air nipped and bit at the exposed flesh of their faces. The father wasn't bothered by the cold. He was too angry and disappointed at his son to feel winter's bitter cold. However, unlike the father, the son shivered under his bulk of expensive winter clothes. The father and son were a gorgeous pair. Both had pale skin with black locks that fell into small curls by their ears. Their eyes were both the same shade of pale blue that could match a warm spring sky. They were tall and thin. They were wealthy and had respect. Tons of women flocked over the son, the father too even though he was getting along in years.

That was why the father had no idea how his son could have made such a stupid mistake. He had no idea how his son could have betrayed him like this. Was this his son walking with him? He didn't know this man that greatly resembled his son. "They were always a strange lot." the father said, after a long walk of silence. "Father, stop it." the son pleaded. "She is my wife and I love her." The father made an impatient noise. "Love," he snapped. "You're too young to know what love is." "I am twenty, father," the son replied. "The same age as you when you met mother." "That's different," the father cried, sounding a bit hysterical. "How?" the son demanded. "I want to know why it's different with me." The father stopped and looked at his son angrily. "Because," he yelled. "She was wealthy and respectable."

The son shook his head, his pale blue eyes narrowed angrily at his father. "I knew that this was the reason. It's because Merope is poor that you don't like her." "That's not the whole reason," the father defended. The son rolled his eyes. "What else, father?" he asked. "I don't trust her. I know she tricked you somehow," the father confessed. "I don't care if you care for her or not, just don't trust her." The son was livid about his father's confession. "I trust her with my life," the son snapped.

_Don't put your life in someone's hands  
They're bound to steal it away_

The father shook his head. His son would just not see reason. Who was this man? The two men started to walk, once again, around the grounds. However, they had only taken a few steps when someone called "Tom" from behind. Both father and son turned to see a short, thin woman coming towards them. She had straight, thin, dark hair that seemed to cling to her pale, thin face. Her eyes were small and dark. The father looked her over in disguist, but the son, he looked at her like she was a queen. It made the father feel rather sick. "Merope, my darling," the son cried as he took a step toward her. But before he could get too far, the father reached out and grabbed his arm.

"Think about this, Thomas," the father cried softly, but urgently, in his son's ear. "No one in town would have to know about the marriage. Your mother and I will forgive you and make this all go away. You can marry someone else and get your life back." But the son didn't take the offer. He didn't even look as if he considered it. He just gazed at his father like the old man was the pathetic one. "I guess since you and mother could not see that I truly love Merope, I will clean out my bank accounts and Merope and I will leave." the son told him. But the father couldn't let his only son leave like that. He loved his son. But he was so furious with him.

"She's not pretty at all," the father hissed at his son. The son's pale blue eyes turned dark. A look of hatred passed over his face. A cold look that the father never received from his son before. The son raised his hand and brought it down hard on the father's face. The father stumbled, not expecting his only son to strike him.

_Don't hide your mistakes  
'Cause they'll find you, burn you_

"Fine, if that's the way you want it, then leave," the father hissed. "Take your little bitch and go!" The son continued to glare at him. He turned his back on his father and made his way over to his new bride. "And remember, Thomas, if you ever want to get out alive. Run for your life," the father advised. The son stopped in his tracks. He turned and stared coldly at his father. "And what does that mean?" the son asked. "If you want to get out alive, run for your life," the father repeated again, not bothering to explain. The son glared again and walked over to his young wife. Merope blinked, looking very confused. Tom kissed her lips gently and took her arm, leading her away.

_Then he said_

_If you want to get out alive  
Run for your life  
If you want to get out alive  
Run for your life_

Merope laid weakly on the bed. The room was dark, except for a few candles placed around the room. Merope demanded there be candles, the light hurt her eyes. She was covered in sweat, but for some reason, she was cold. Her whole body ached and she could hardly move. She knew she didn't have long. She knew she was dying. The door opened, but she didn't have the strength to raise her head to see who it was. So she stared at the ceiling. "I want to see my baby," Merope croaked. "Here he is," a gentle voice said. Merope looked up to see a woman come to her side. The baby wasn't visible from the bundle in her arms. Merope took a deep, painful breath and placed her palms down onto the bed. "Let me help you," the woman said. "No," Merope cried and she used what little strength she had left to push herself into a sitting position, her back against the headboard of the bed.

_This is my last time she said__  
As she faded away_

Once the woman saw that Merope was able to sit up, she placed the bundle into her arms. Merope moved the blanket a little and she set her eyes on her son for the first time. He was a little small, but to her, he was perfect. His eyes were squinched closed and he had pale skin. His head was covered in fuzz of black hair. Merope knew it was foolish, but she started to count. Ten fingers. Ten toes. Two arms. Two legs. Her son was perfect. He was a half blood and he was perfect. Oh how she wish she could throw that into her father's and brother's face! Merope traced one of her fingers gently onto her son's closed fist. His fist slowly opened and wrapped around her finger. Merope was surprised at how strong her baby was.

His eyes slowly started to open. Her breath caught in her throat at the sight of his pale blue eyes. "H-he looks like his father," Merope stuttered as she looked up at the woman who was still in the room. The woman gave her a kind smile. "He's beautiful," the woman told Merope. Merope nodded. Sadness flooded over her. This was the happiest day of her life and yet, she had to leave her little boy. Her miracle baby. She just hoped that Tom would come to his senses and take in their son. She didn't want her baby to grow up alone and without love. She didn't want him to be like her. Although, she knew deep down that Tom would never come to find their son. And that her baby would grow to be like her.

_It's hard to imagine  
But one day you'll end up like me_

"Tom," Merope said aloud. "Excuse me?" the woman asked. "I want to name him Tom," Merope replied. "Thomas Marvolo Riddle. Thomas Riddle for his father. And Marvolo for my father." The woman nodded as she wrote down the small babe's name. Merope fell silent again, looking down at her beautiful son. She rocked him awhile for she knew she didn't have long. Her eyes grew heavy and her breathing became weak. Tom lay sleeping in his mother's arms. She raised him closer to her face. "Be a fighter, Tom," she whispered to him. "And don't forget, to get out alive, you need to run for your life."

She kissed his forehead and held him close, rocking him as she did so. About ten minutes later, Merope took her last breath and closed her eyes one final time. She died with her love in her arms.

_Then she said_

_If you want to get out alive  
Run for your life  
If you want to get out alive  
Run for your life  
If you want to get out alive (If you want to get out alive)  
Run for your life (Life)  
If you want to get out alive (If you want to get out alive)  
Run for your life_

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_If you liked it, then review. And check out my other stories. If you didn't like it, then leave. But obviously, if you read it all the way to the end, you must have liked it a little bit._


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